


Vocabulary Lessons

by BelovedCreation



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 12,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedCreation/pseuds/BelovedCreation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian learns new words and phrases from The Land Without Magic -- one drabble will be written for every episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dating

Killian gathers that courting works differently in Storybrooke.

"Are you dating my mom?" Henry had asked a week ago, before he and Emma traveled back in time, before the witch was defeated, after his father died. He startled Killian with the strange word as the two sat side-by-side on Leroy’s boat.

"Dating?" Killian reached up to scratch behind his ear, stalling for time.

The lad rolled his eyes. (It is his new favorite mode of communication). “You know, dating. Where you go out for dinner and hold hands and kiss.Where you call each other on the phone before bed and sneak out of our apartment before I wake up like I don’t notice.”

Henry paused to look down at the knot he had been working on, tongue escaping his mouth in concentration. Killian absorbed this new word  _dating_.

"Mom was dating this guy Walsh back in New York," Henry continued, not looking up. "He asked her to marry him and I thought she was going to say yes but then you showed up and we drove up here and you seem to know everyone and I haven’t heard her call Walsh before bed anymore and-" he finally looked up, brow furrowed and Killian sensed his frustration "-I just wondered if we are here because you are dating my mom."

Killian pursed his lips. It is hard to hold back a smile from the thought of  _dating_ the lovely Lady Swan. Their time at the New York tavern was woefully short and tragically unromantic. If he were to attempt to tangle her fingers with his own he feared that she would leave him without another appendage. Kissing would be equally dangerous, especially to his groin. And, though he has yet to obtain one of these  _phones_ , he would much rather speak to Swan face-to-face.

He wouldn’t even allow the thought of sneaking out of the prince and princess’s apartment to cross his mind. Or consider the fact that this flying monkey apparently became quite intimate with Emma.

Killian shook his head. “No, lad, I am not dating your mother.” And he left it at that because it was Emma’s duty to give her son answers in time.

Killian thinks about this educational moment when he finds himself alone in the woods with Emma, trying to get her to open up to him.  _Damn this infernal woman._  She kisses him sweetly and gently, refusing to allow him to deepen the kiss, and his frustration is reaching its limits.

In the Enchanted Forest there is no such thing as dating. Romance is either shared for a night of passion or promised for a lifetime of commitment. In his years as a pirate captain, Killian has known plenty a lass for a night of passion. And in his years with Milah, promised over and over again a lifetime of commitment. After her death, his promise never wavered until the revenge consumed his life.

Killian Jones does not do things halfway. When he sets his sight on a course, he sails in that direction, unwavering.

With one more shy look over her shoulder, Emma disappears behind a tree and leaves Killian alone.

Apparently, if he wants to woo the Lady Swan, he will need to learn more about  _dating_. He wonders if it has anything to do with  _net flecks_.


	2. Space Heater

"What a nifty little box."

Killian nods to the small, buzzing contraption that is sending warm air at Emma. With his palm rubbing circles across her shoulder blades and her hand clinging to his other arm, her shivers vibrating his body as well, Killian is loathe to pull away a limb for anything as trivial as pointing.

Swan nods and gives him that funny smile she makes when he mentions anything about modern technology. “Its called a space heater.”

"Ah," he nods. "Space heater." The phrase trips clumsily off of his tongue, as many of the words in this world do. "Would have loved to have something like that on the Jolly. It got quite cold some of those long winter nights on sea."

Killian lowers his voice. Her parents and the ice enchantress have departed, taking the small prince with them. Henry prepares a warm beverage for his mother, but Killian remembers hearing each and every word spoken by a grownup at his age. No need to traumatize the lad. “Back in the Enchanted Forest,” he whispers in her ear, “we had to rely on body heat alone.” 

He pulls away to raise one of his lecherous eyebrows. Joking about sex would have been unthinkable an hour ago, but his relief at her safety brings a heady thrill, followed by a desire to see her smile once again. What he gets instead is a soft blush across her cheeks, a sign that he has impacted her with innuendo and that warmth is returning to her body. He rubs harder across her shoulders and grins at his dual victory.

"Oh yeah," she smirks. "I bet Smee was a great cuddle buddy."

Undaunted, Killian shakes his head. “Nah. Smee would always take all of the blankets. Horrible cuddle companion.”

The giggles this joke elicits, a tinkling melody of glee, draws her son back to the two of them, two steaming mugs of chocolate in his hands.

"What’s so funny?" he asks, then twists is face in disgust. "Is it something gross?"

Emma shakes her head emphatically. “No, kid. Killian was just telling me how impressed he is by space heaters. Apparently nights on his ship got really cold.”

Henry makes another face and raises an eyebrow before turning to Killian and offering him one of the chocolate cups. “Are you kidding me? I’d rather have a pirate ship than a space heater any day.”

But as Killian takes the warm beverage and Emma makes up for the loss of contact by leaning further into him, seeking body heat and comfort, and Henry darts back into the kitchen to retrieve his own drink, Killian feels a warmth rush through him stronger than any heating contraptions this world could come up with. Henry, the impulsive and idealistic young boy, might prefer the danger of a pirate ship to the safety of a warm hearth, but Killian has known too many cold and lonely nights on the Jolly.

He would choose the space heater any day.


	3. Cell Phone

The two smart raps on Killian’s door at Granny’s sound far too loud for Ruby’s usual unobtrusive taps and not urgent enough to match Emma’s usual three knocks and a shout ( _Hey! It’s Emma!_ ).

 

When Killian pulls open the door, he is pleasantly surprised to find the prince smiling tightly.

"May I come in?" David asks, ever the polite member of the royal court. Killian steps aside and gestures with his hook. The prince steps inside and by the time Killian has turned back around from shutting the door David is holding out one of the small contraptions everyone here in Storybrooke seems to carry.

"What’s that, mate?"

"Its a telephone." With a slight movement of his finger (perhaps pressing one of the small buttons on the side of the device?) David makes it light up. "We use them to communicate with one another across distances. Homes and businesses have them and people carry portable ones with them so they can be reachable at all times." David pulls a small rope with a block at the end of it out of his jacket pocket. "In order to use the portable telephones, called cell phones, you have to fill them with more power. Just attach the phone to an electrical outlet every night while you sleep and you should be fine."

David hands the phone and the power rope to Killian, who is suddenly anxious that he will drop and break the magical device. Killian sets the rope down on his bed and inspects the  _cell phone_  further. He had picked up on the communication properties of telephones after a few days in Storybrooke, but was secretly embarrassed to ask more pointed questions about how they worked. He feels quite alone in this strange land without magic, one of the few who does not understand the nuances of life in this world. The prince’s explanation clears up some of the missing pieces.

"So," Killian gives David a questioning look. "You are gifting this to me?"

Emma’s father shifts uncomfortably, stuffing his hands in his pockets and glancing away for a moment. “Well, we had enough money in the sheriff’s budget to get you a simple plan. You can’t get on the internet or anything, but you can call and text and send videos and photos. I thought it would be a good idea for you to be reachable.” He shifts again. “Especially if you’re going to be helping us find this mysterious Wicked Witch.”

David finally plants his feet, straightens his spine and sticks out his hand. “And I wanted to thank you for bringing my daughter back home.”

Killian can only accept his firm handshake before looking down in embarrassment. “Of course, mate,” he mutters, unable to articulate how his heart hurt every day that he was kept from her, and how it still aches when he remembers the things he did when he felt that all was hopeless, and how glad he was to receive the message that commissioned  _him_  to be the hero, to go rescue a bloody princess and save the day. And how he knew that he didn’t do it for selfless reasons and he didn’t just do it to bring her home to her parents: he did it because another day without seeing Emma would be another day that was not worth living and even if he not court her he would stay by her side to protect her and support her and to continue to remember that he could be a good man.

He can’t tell the prince any of this.

Instead he carefully presses another button. “So how does this work exactly?”

David comes to stand by his side and shows him how to turn the phone on and off and  _put it to sleep_ , which apparently sounds more ominous than it really is. He points to a green button. “This is the call button. When you push it, you will see the names of everyone that you have called or could call. I took the liberty of putting my number in here, along with Emma’s, the sheriff’s station, Mary Margaret’s, and Granny’s.”

Killian cannot help but grin at the prince’s foresight. “Wonderful mate, just wonderful! And if I need to reach anyone else?”

David chews the inside of his lip. “Why don’t you just ask them to put it in for you? At least until you get more comfortable.”

Killian nods. “Thank you.”

The prince turns to leave. He opens the door and then pauses, as though suddenly remembering something. “Oh, Hook?” He turns with a wary expression upon his face. “Just a warning, asking someone for their phone number is usually perceived by a member of the opposite sex as letting them know you’re interested in them.” He raises his eyebrows, making his implication clear.

"Ah," Killian smiles. "I understand." The prince turns again and Killian stops him. "Mate? How am I to perceive that you have already given me your daughter’s phone number?"

David rolls his eyes. “Don’t get too excited, pirate. I gave you my cell number too.” But then he mirrors Killian’s grin and finally exits the room, leaving Killian alone with a new contraption that allows him to contact people instantly.

It only takes two presses of a button.

"Hello?" The response of the other party is wary and he can picture the furrow of her brow and the impatient set on her jaw.

"Swan?" he purrs. "You will never guess what modern device I have recently come in possession of."

She sighs. “You know I’m only three rooms down, right? You don’t need to call me.”

"Ah, but where is the fun in that?"

She sighs again. “Who on earth sold you a cell phone? And why wasn’t I consulted?”


	4. VHS

"What are you doing here so late, love?"

Killian's voice appears to surprise Emma, who has been sitting in the dark sheriff's station, face only lit by the glow of the small  _television_  (an object he learned about in his short stay at the Storybrooke Hospital).She starts, her shoulders tensing and the fingers of her right hand twitch toward the gun on her hip. Her wide eyes blink and then her muscles relax.

"God, Hook, you scared me half to death."

"The question remains, Swan. With that witch running around I hardly think it is safe for you to be all alone like this."

"Then its lucky I've got you here to keep me safe." Her lips quirk up and she gets this special sparkle in her eye that Killian has only identified as  _flirting_  since he woke her up from the spell in New York. It sends a quiver down his spine and makes him lightheaded.

For a half a second he imagines striding forward and kissing her again, letting her know in no uncertain terms that he still  _very much_  wants to know who she is.

And then he remembers the damn witch's spell.

He shrugs and changes the subject.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Swan rolls her eyes and beckons him forward. "Zelena may be public enemy number one but I still have a whole town full of problems. Some business owner claimed that her storefront was being defaced and wanted me to look into it." She gestures at the screen. "I found some security tapes from the coffee shop across the street and I'm seeing if I can spot the culprit."

"Security tapes?"

Emma nods and picks up a black rectangle. "VHS tapes. Security cameras-" she points behind him now, to a gadget mounted on the wall, "capture whatever happens and they get put on these tapes-" she wriggles it "-and then I put it in the VCR-" she points to the box below the screen "-and I can see it anytime."

Killian clears his throat. "So let me get this straight. You have the ability to create moving pictures of thieves in action?"

A smile breaks out over Emma's face and Killian wants to learn everything about this Land Without Magic just to bring about more moments of pride and joy on this woman's face. "Exactly."

Killian shakes his head and picks one of the  _VHS tapes_  out of her hands. "Bloody hell, Swan. If such a thing had existed in my pirating days I would have been locked in the brig long ago."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason all of Killian's vocabulary lessons want to happen in 3B? Let's see if next week he can learn a new word in the course of the episode. But things like VHS's and cell phones had to have been learned about ages ago!


	5. Mood Ring

She finds it in his pocket three days later.

Emma saunters up to him outside of Granny's, digging her fingers into his new leather jacket and tugging him forward with a lazy smile.

"Hey," she breathes, and then her lips are brushing against his own and the familiar fires of desire and adoration are flickering inside of him. Her kiss is quiet and slow and Killian thinks he could keep kissing her for 300 years if she would like. He lifts his arm to brush away her hair and gently cup her smooth cheek. She presses against him more firmly, first her lips and then the whole of her, hands burrowing deeper inside his jacket.

Killian could get used to good morning greetings like this.

When Emma pulls away, her deep red lips are quirked in confusion. It takes him a dizzying moment to realize the reason for her expression: the large ring in the palm of her hand, fished out of his coat.

"Swan, let me explain-" he bursts before he can become the target of her fury.

A brow rises. "Explain how one of the rings from my box of childhood treasures ended up in your pocket?"

"Well, um," his hand drifts up to scratch behind his ear. "I took it."

The bow lifts higher.

"That is to say, I  _borrowed_  it." Killian attempts a dazzling smile but Emma may, in fact, be immune to his charms. The thought is disconcerting. He plunks the ring out of her hand (against his better judgment) and scrutinizes it. "I had never seen this gem before and I was a bit curious." He squints as he places his thumb against the stone and, when he pulls it away, the blue has turned into orange.

(Is it just his imagination, or do Emma's lips twitch at this?)

She snatches the ring back and slides it on to her hand. "Its called a mood ring, Killian. Its made of crystals. Its supposed to change color depending on your mood. They usually come with a little chart."

Killian blinks. "According to your chart, what is my mood?"

She gives him a long look. "Nervous."

And then she finally cracks a smile and Killian begins breathing again.

He takes her ring-encrusted hand within his own. "I am so sorry, Swan. That was a betrayal of your trust and I should have never-"

She shakes her mane of white-gold hair to stop him from continuing. "Its fine, Killian. It really is. I get that you were curious, I just wish you had told me before you took it." She pauses and her lips twitch (he is sure of it this time). "Although I shouldn't be surprised that my pirate boyfriend would steal jewelry from me."

It takes a moment before Emma realizes what she has just called him and when she does a lovely rose blush arises on her cheeks. "Boyfriend?" he teases.

She swats his arm. "Shut up."

Killian slips the ring off of her finger again, places it in her palm, and curls her hand around the ring, cocooning the strange gem. When he releases her fist, he plucks the ring from it and holds it up.

"And what mood does green mean?"

She huffs and snatches the jewelry back. "Green means you're an idiot."

(But that night, when he walks her back home to her parents', she whispers in his ear, "Green means romantic." and the fire is glowing inside as she kisses him.)


	6. Ice Cream

"You're a lifesaver," the prince exhales as he opens the door to his apartment to admit Killian. The pirate offers him a reluctant smile and enters the royal abode.

"I must admit that I had never heard of this delicacy before but the young man at the grocery assured me that this was the kind that your wife has been purchasing the last few weeks." Killian reaches into the bag and pulls out the cold container that stores the  _ice cream_  requested via  _text message_ from David less than an hour ago.

**David Nolan 7:48am** Meeting is at our place this morning. And if you could run by the store and bring some ice cream for Snow you would be saving my life (and possibly my marriage).

"Did he bring it?" comes the call from further in and Killian peers across the room to glimpse the incredibly pregnant princess reclining on the couch.

David snatches the dessert from Killian's hand and lifts it aloft. "He brought it. Your favorite: double fudge brownie!"

Snow closes her eyes in contentment and her palm drifts to her stomach. "Mmmmm, what a perfect morning treat," she murmurs. At lightening speed, the prince has deposited the frozen bucket in one of her hands and a spoon in the other. Killian watches in fascination as the prim princess devours the chocolate.

Guess those stories of pregnancy cravings are true.

Killian strides into the kitchen and plunks the bag down on the counter.

"Wait," the prince has appeared at his side again, an amused smirk across his face as he opens the food bag. "Did you get three gallons of ice cream?"

The fearsome pirate captain feels his face turning red. "Well, I was not willing to entirely trust the memory of the lad at the grocery. For all I know he was some sort of an idiot back in our world. So I decided to purchase three varieties just in case."

David lets out a barking laugh. "Snow's favorite is the double fudge brownie but she likes mint chip and caramel swirl too." His voice drops, "I bet you they won't last until tomorrow night either."

Killian smiles conspiratorially. "All the better to improve your marriage then, mate."

The prince gives him a look through furrowed brows and narrowed eyes that Killian cannot quite distinguish before it has melted away again. "Well, since we have so many options would you like a bowl, Hook?"

"Thank you for your hospitality. Which one would you recommend?."

David scratches his cheek. "Well, Snow's partial to all things chocolate and I like mint myself, but Emma is a fan of caramel."

Killian cants his head. "I will try the caramel. It sounds delicious."

And when the sweet and creamy treat slides around his tongue, melting and making him shiver involuntarily, he knows that he has made the right decision.

Three minutes later, when Emma bounces into the kitchen, scoops up a spoon, and digs a large chunk of  _ice cream_  from his bowl straight into her own mouth, another shiver works its way down his spine, triggered by her playful smile and the warmth of the glow of her family and the ways they have opened up their home to him.


	7. Fast Food

"You look like shit," David states matter-of-fact and normally Killian would snap or protest but he just sighs in resignation because he knows for certain that he does, in fact, look like shit.

"You do not have any more ideas about where Emma is?" he responds instead, scrubbing a weary hand across his face.

The prince shakes his head. "I can't think of anywhere else that she would go. The lake, the docks, Henry's castle.." David trails off and gives Killian an uncomfortable look out of the corner of his eye. "There isn't a place that the two of you, uh, well-"

Killian feels his face flush and there are a number of complications when the only mate you seem to be spending any time with is the father of the woman that you love and this is complication number one. (Usually he and David are able to joke and laugh and watch out for one another and there have even been a few evenings down at the Rabbit Hole where (and Killian would never repeat this to Snow or Emma) he and David both found themselves spending more than a moment appreciating some very fine female specimens, but this is the sort of thing that mates never really talk about once their pints are paid for and certain wives and daughters are around).

"No," Killian replies, awkwardly yet firmly. He shuffles his feet on the truck floor and they have suddenly become the most interesting feet in the world.

David sighs deeply. There have been times that he has envied the prince, with his adoring wife and beautiful children and the kind of home that Killian had not dreamed was possible for a pirate like him in years, this is not one of those moments. The only thing more complicated than being the paramour of the Savior is to be one of her estranged parents, constantly waltzing around their complicated past. "We should get back to the loft then," the prince finally says, breaking the silence and Killian's train of thought. "Mary Margaret will be worried sick."

Killian nods for David to start up his iron carriage again. They drive in silence for several minutes and Killian is so lost in his concern over Emma's whereabouts and the number of times he called her on that damn  _cell phone_  (really, what is the point of the infernal devices?) that he does not realize they are traveling an unfamiliar path until David pulls up next to a glowing sign, rolls down his window, turns to Killian, and asks, "What do you want? Its my treat."

The pirate feels his brow furrow in a look that that makes David chuckle. "What?" the other man asks. "Haven't you had fast food before?"

"Do you mean food that runs quickly, mate?"

David shakes his head and gestures to the squat building on their left. "Its called a  _drive thru_  and its a restaurant where you order your food with one of these intercoms and they give it to you through a window. You never even have to get out of the car."

Killian peers around David to squint at the glowing board he now identifies as a menu. "What a strange world this is, demanding food so quickly. Some of my favorite meals have taken days to roast and simmer and marinade."

"They call it fast food, not fantastic food. How about a burger and fries?"

He allows the prince to order their dinner and hand him a large greasy brown paper bag. David rummages around in the sack and pulls out his own burger, pointing for Killian to do the same. When he bites into his meal, Killian finds another reason to love this realm: the food may not be as good, but it comes  _fast_  and tonight that is heavenly for a pirate who feels like shit.


	8. Prescription /// Zombie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With two parts to Sunday's episode I had to write a drabble for each so chapter and episode numbers stayed in line. EDIT: Guess I was wrong about the episode being numbered as two. But there are still two drabbles in this chapter.

The sun is setting in the sky, fierce and red and blazing ( _red sky at night, sailor's delight_ ) but no forces of nature can touch the calm in Killian's heart when he is walking beside Emma Swan. They make their weary way toward Granny's after an afternoon of trekking through the forest.

"Hold on, I gotta grab something first." Emma's mane of blonde hair ducks into an establishment with the sign  _Dark Star Pharmacy_  and Killian can only follow.

"What is this shop, lass?" he questions, looking at the neat rows illuminated in the harsh light.

She strides forward without a backward glance. "Its a  _farm macy_." 

"Er?"

Emma finally stops and twirls on the spot, her green eyes glittering with amusement and Killian does not mind being the focus of her jokes as long as she continues smiling like this. " _Farm macy_. Its a place you go to buy everyday things. Snacks, cosmetics," she picks up a small white jar and shakes it, producing a rattling sound, "drugs." _  
_

Killian strokes his chin. "So an entirety of a market contained within one establishment?"

"Exactly." Emma continues working her way towards her destination. A counter resides in the back of the shop and while she waits for the dwarf behind it to serve her, Killian picks up various boxes and bottles and reads the excruciatingly fine print on them.

Apparently this is some sort of apothecary.

"What do you mean I need a prescription?" Emma bellows, slamming one of the small boxes down on the counter.

The dwarf (does he go by Tom Clark in this world?) squares his shoulders. "It's a state law, Emma. I'm sorry."

Swan picks up the box between two fingers and lets it dangle gently. "Tom, I just want some cold medicine. You, out of everyone, should understand the need to keep the sniffles away."

Tom sneezes instantly and Killian chuckles under his breath. The apothecary gives him a venomous look.

"I can't do anything without a doctor's prescription and that's that."

Emma takes a step forward and Killian can almost see her glare, burning and blistering. "Have you stepped outside lately,  _Sneezy_? We have two women running around with ice powers and when I get home my nose is running like a goddamn faucet. I just want to take a pill and go to sleep without running through an entire box of tissues."

Tom snatches the box out of her hand. "No prescription, no drugs."

On their way out of the  _farm macy_  Emma growls, "I hate that fucking dwarf."

* * *

"What are you reading?"

Her sweet voice and the gentle pressure of her hand on his shoulder shake him from his concentration. Killian looks up and turns to reply, but his mouth is barely open before her boy is peeking over his shoulder and grinning.

"Sweet, you're reading it!"

"That I am, lad." He responds with a smile of his own and Henry slides into the booth across from him at Granny's with all his new teenage gawkiness. Henry steals a  _french fry_  from his plate (is it really stealing if everything that Killian has is open to this boy with Bae's big eyes and his mother's boldness?) and munches it in satisfaction.

Emma joins her son and gestures to his tome. " _The Zombie Survival Guide_?"

Henry nods enthusiastically. "I thought Killian should know about the monsters in this world."

His mother purses her lips and gives him a look through narrowed eyes. "But zombies aren't real."

Killian is startled. "But the lad assured me-"

"Not. Real."

The boy takes another potato and rolls his eyes. "Says the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming."

"There's a difference between fairy tales and zombie movies."

"What about Doctor Whale?" Henry fires back triumphantly. "He's Frankenstein. How is that any different?"

Emma steals a fry of her own. "I guess that's true, kid." She chews thoughtfully. "Come to think of it..."

"Yes?" Henry sits up straighter, anticipating victory.

"When Mom and I were back in the Enchanted Forest-" She gives Killian a look and he remembers being pulled out from beneath a pile of stinking corpses, strapped to a tree, caged in a giant's lair, "Cora killed a whole village and ripped out their hearts. A few days later we were attacked and Mulan recognized them as some of the people who had died. She controlled them with their hearts even after they were dead."

"Like zombies!" Henry shouts proudly, surprising a few of the neighboring tables.

"Like zombies," Emma agrees.

-

Killian thinks about Henry's  _zombie_  book as he runs through the strange manor, searching desperately for Emma. Is this what it feels like to be an undead creature? Emotions dulled, senses stifled, a single litany running through his head until he wants to tear out his hair in madness?

_Bring me the hat._

When he sees her, still alive, still glowing with magic, his heart jumps in his chest again.

Is that even possible?

He presses her tightly to his chest, needing to feel that she is whole, needing to know for certain that she is not a figment of his imagination, that she is alive. Her curves meld softly against his shock-tightened body and he wants to hold her until he can breath again, until he can  _think_  again.

But holding her is not enough. It usually is but with the absence of his heart he needs her more than ever to make sure that  _he_  is still alive, that  _he_  is still whole.

(Even though he knows he is even less whole than he ever was. Damn him and damn that crocodile, for taking his hand and now his heart and how can Killian ever hope to be enough for Emma now?)

So he kisses her. Frantically and passionately and his lips seek the sweet release that she has never failed to give him. Emma comes through again, sending shivers down his spine and cancelling out all thoughts but  _I love you._  She pulls away and teases him. But he refuses to be ashamed of the pleasure it gives him just to  _look_  at her.

(He memorizes every line on her face, knowing that whatever time the crocodile allows him will not be enough to smooth away the wrinkles of self-doubt and sadness that the world have drawn on her.)

Killian lingers behind to complete his dirty task, knowing that failure to do so will only make the snide voice grow louder in his head.

When he joins Emma and the others outside the manor, the celebration has already given away to dread and her wrist is encircled with a glowing yellow ribbon that has taken her breath from her lungs and Killian wonders  _when will this ever be over_?

(And a selfish piece inside of him fears the end of anything because it may mean the the end of everything. Another day of fighting is another day of living.)


	9. Hookers and Strippers

David sets the three pints down on the water-stained table, sloshing a bit of the weak beer out of the tankards (this world's libations do not come close to rivaling the ones found in dockside taverns across the Enchanted Forest).

"Thanks for organizing this bachelor party, Killian," David shouts over the rumble of Friday night at the Rabbit Hole. "In this world most stag nights are filled with hookers and strippers."

"Hookers?" Kristoff coughs in bewilderment. "What is that, some sort of fishing boat?"

The tips of David's ears turn red and he turns to Killian who wears a similar look of puzzlement. "Uh, in this world a hooker is another name for a prostitute."

"Ah," Killian clears his throat and nods. "A whore." The prince gives him a suspicious look and Killian can feel his own ears grow hot. "Not that I - well I have not -" His words stumble across his tongue and he is not sure how to tell upstanding, noble, do-gooder David (the father to the woman he is courting, no less) that, while he has had his fill of whores in the past, it has been many years since he has indulged in that particular vice.

David just takes a hearty gulp of his tankard and when he emerges again, his entire face is scarlet. "I know, reformed pirate."

The addition of the word  _reformed_  makes Killian duck his head and drink from his own beer before his bashful smile is revealed.

"And strippers?" presses Kristoff, apparently unaware of the weight of the exchange he has just witnessed. "Is that another word for-" his voice lowers to an uncomfortable whisper "prostitutes as well?"

The prince chuckles. "Not exactly. They are women who undress for men's amusement, usually to music."

Kristoff's brow crinkles and Killian suppresses a laugh at the man's innocence. "So these strippers usually arrive to help a man celebrate the last night before he gets married?"

"Not always," David replies. "But some men do." His eyes gaze into the distance, as if suddenly recalling something. "Actually, in my cursed memories - the ones Regina gave me - I did go to a strip club for my bachelor party before I married Katherine. Some of my friends dragged me."

"Well that proves it, mate," Killian booms, patting David on the back and trying desperately to change the topic to something slightly less awkward. "In my experience, a man who is in love only seeks the companionship of the woman he is in love with."

He remembers a night almost a year ago, dark hair and soft curves, already paid for. A reputation to uphold. But only Emma Swan's smile and her golden tresses running through his mind. Money given along with a bitter smile.

He only wants her.

David gives him an appraising look and quietly smiles. "Yeah, I suppose that's right." Then he grins and lifts up his tankard. "Did I ever tell you guys about the time I was chasing Snow and I ran into a siren?"

Killian groans. "Bloody hell, those sirens are even trickier than mermaids." David laughs and launches into a story of seeking after his True Love, Kristoff chuckling along. But every once in a while the man's attention wanders and his lips twitch as if he is thinking of someone not present at the male-only celebration.

Killian wonders if anyone else in all the realms has had as much trouble trying to protect and earn the love of a plucky princess as the strange assortment of men at this crooked old table.


	10. Shower

"We'll go back to Storybrooke in the morning," Emma sighs, hands on her hips and eyes downcast. The woman that Killian had met over a year ago has returned full-force. She was awoken with a memory potion in the afternoon and now, with the betrayal of her suitor, Emma Swan's walls are back up and higher than ever.

She escorts him back down the stairwell towards her apartment and the sad slope of her shoulders breaks Killian's heart more than the thought that she had been happy with another man while he had been pining for her in the Enchanted Forest.

"Do you have a place to stay tonight?" she asks when they arrive at her door, breaking the silence. Killian can only shake his head and pray that she does not ask unwanted questions about  _your ship_  and  _how did you get here_. Emma just sighs, as if she is used to taking in strays (she must be, the way she encouraged him to join their band of adventurers in Neverland last year, earnest eyes in the eatery urging him to  _be a part of something_ ). Without a word, she opens the door and ushers him into her home. _  
_

Silently, Emma tugs two blankets and a pillow out of a closet and places them on the back of the sofa. "Bathroom is that way," she gestures. "Sleep as late as you want, but when I go get Henry you'll have to take a walk around the block or something so he doesn't come home to a strange man on our couch."

He bites back an innuendo about sleeping in her bed.

Killian rises with the dawn as he has for centuries (some habits are simply impossible to shake) and blinks wearily at his strange surroundings. On his last foray into the Land Without Magic he was not really welcomed into any homes. He peers at the strange knickknacks of this world and wonders what they could be. Obviously, he has much to learn. Exhausted, he eventually falls back into a fitful sleep.

When he wakes again, Emma is looking down at him, furrow between her eyes, hand gently shaking his shoulder, golden hair dripping flecks of water onto his cheek. "Hook, wake up. Shower's all yours."

He cannot stop the ridiculous smile that breaks across his face at seeing her first thing in the morning. "'What's that then?"

"Shower." The furrow deepens. "I'm done. Maybe you should take one."

Killian runs a tired hand across his face. "Perhaps you would care to explain what a  _shower_  is, love."

Emma chuckles and Killian feels his face grow warm. "I guess they don't have showers in fairy tale land, huh? Its like a bath but you stand. C'mon." She holds out a hand to help him sit up and her touch is soft and warm and Killian wraps the blanket tigher around his bare hips to hide his morning excitement.

"You sleep in the nude. Of course." She drops her hand and averts her gaze. His face is flaming now but he covers up his embarassment with a throaty laugh.

"How else would you sleep, lass?"

"Oh, just follow me," she grumbles, leading him to a small tiled room. He is familiar with a bath tub, but water that is so easily accessible that it can come from the wall is a wonder and Killian decides then and there to give this world a chance.

After Swan has left him to his own devices, Killian spends five minutes getting the water to the perfect temperature. Seven minutes deciding which of the various soaps and lotions to use. Fifteen minutes tending to his morning stiffness. And another ten minutes cleaning off again and enjoying the steady stream of water soothing the aches and pains of his shoulders and back.

"Hook!" Emma's furious voice is accompanied by three sharp raps on the door. "You've been in there for almost an hour. Did you slip and fall? Did you drown?"

He briefly considers not responding, perhaps prompting Emma to enter the  _shower_  and confront his fully naked form. He decides against this trickery and instead turns the water off as he was instructed, wraps a towel around his waist, and opens the door. Killian leans against the doorframe, giving her his best enticing eyebrow and rejoicing in the way her eyes linger on his bare, dripping chest.

"Get dressed and get out of here, Hook. I'm already late to pick up Henry."

"As you wish," he nods, sauntering past her and feeling her gaze scorch his scar-covered back. Her heart may be broken, that much is true, but Emma Swan is still very much attracted to Captain Killian Jones. He hopes that the spark between them is enough to make her keep him around long enough to prove that his interest goes far beyond innuendos and longing glances.

Now that they are in the same world once again, he is back to fighting for her heart.


	11. Band Aid

"Let me see it."

"Swan, I hardly believe this is necess-"

"Now."

Emma's pursed lips and narrowed eyes leave no room for argument and Killian reluctantly holds up his hand for her inspection.

"Hmmmm." She takes another step forward, closing the distance between the two of them and filling his nostrils with her scent. (She had insisted that he perch on the bathroom counter while she tended to his wound. With Emma Swan between his open legs, all Killian wants to do is tug her forward so they are hip-to-hip, chest-to-chest, lip-to-lip.)

"Doesn't look too deep. I don't think you'll need stitches."

"I will simply wrap it with a bandage and-"

"No." The twinkle in her green eyes glows brighter. "We should clean it first."

Killian remembers the mingled smell of rum and blood, a soft scarf slipping across his fingers, his heart thudding with sudden attraction.

He leans forward until their noses a mere inch apart. "Well, love, why don't we break out the rum?" His tongue traces a slow path across his lower lip. Her gaze flashes down to his mouth with apparent interest and appreciation and Killian's heart beats at double time as it did all those months ago.

"This time," his lips are brushing against her ear. "We can explore all of the possibilities that particular libation can offer."

When he pulls away, she is smirking in a terrifyingly disarming way. "In this world we disinfect wounds with  _hi drag gin pear ox's hide_ (well, she says something like that. Honestly, the words that they use in this world seem unnecessarily complex)."

Emma steps away and rummages around in the bathroom's small closet. She emerges with a brown  _plastic_  bottle (the materials of this world are fascinating), a small blue paper box, and tufts of white cotton.

She makes quick work of pouring the liquid from the bottle onto the cotton and applying it to his wound. When he hisses at the sting she chuckles under her breath and mutters something about  _payback's a bitch_. When she has dabbed the wound dry, she pulls a strip of paper out of the box. When she peels it open, it reveals something small and flesh-colored.

She places it on top of his cut and Killian is amazed to realize that it does not immediately fall off.

"What is this marvelous material?" he asks, voice filled with awe.

"It's a band aid," she replies, hand covering her amused grin. "In this world we find it a little more efficient than strips of cloth."

"This is marvelous, Swan. Truly marvelous." He twists his hand in all directions. "Is it resistant to water?"

She shrugs. "It can get kind of soggy, depending on how long you get it wet."

Killian squints to examine it closer. "I must admit your world does have some remarkable items."

"You're a big fan of the band aids, huh?"

He suddenly realizes that Emma is standing between his legs again and she is swaying slowly. With hook and injured hand, he gives in to his desire and pulls her forward.

Hip-to-hip.

Chest-to-chest.

_Lip-to-lip._

When she pulls back, breathless, Killian thumbs at the dimple in her chin.

"I am a big fan of a good number of things in this world. But most of all, I am a big fan of you, Emma."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to continue this series into 4B but it may all be determined by whether or not they remain in Storybrooke throughout the half season. If so, then I will be continuing to educate Killian on the ways of this world! Happy hiatus everyone and I promise to keep writing other stuff to get us through until March!


	12. Internet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to be back, darlings!

Killian allows himself a single day to recover from his near-death, a long night of sleep and an afternoon by the docks with Emma hardly enough to shake the feeling of the crocodile's fingers wrapped around his heart, but his guilt rising with him the next morning.

"We must free all the innocents I helped put in the hat," he blurts out as soon as he walks into the library, Belle's eyes growing wide with surprise from behind the front desk.

"I agree," she says simply when she recovers from his dramatic entrance.

"How do you propose we do such a thing?" he asks.

Belle slowly closes the thick book open in front of her and leans forward, elbows resting on the desk. "We do research. Lots and lots of research."

Killian steps closer and gestures to the shelves of books in the large room. "This seems to be the place for it, lass."

"No," she shakes her head, moving toward the strange boxes on the other side of her desk. "Let's start with an internet search first."

His brows furrow in confusion. "Why would we search in fishing nets?"

There is a relief that he feels when the corners of her mouth turn up and her eyes soften, even if the amusement comes from his poor understanding of the words of this realm. She can still smile and Killian is confident, despite his limited interactions with the crocodile's wife, that she will survive this heartbreak and find happiness again.

" _Internet_ ," she repeats. "Its like a lot of libraries that you can access from computers like this."

"Ahhhh," he replies, still utterly bewildered. "Well, I prefer pen and paper meself. Do you happen to have some that will allow me to begin collecting my thoughts?"

Belle leads him to the office behind her desk. "There should be some notebooks in here and I think I've got a corkboard to pin things on."

Killian suddenly remembers something he saw on a  _television_  show he watched with Henry a few days ago, a story of constabulary solving a complex murder.

"Would you happen to have some twine or string as well? Perchance to connect ideas together?"

The smile appears again and it is strange, this desire to comfort someone without a need for reciprocation of any kind. Empathy was an emotion he had hidden under centuries of rage and as they get to work another echo of the Dark One's clutch leaves his heart.


	13. Grilled Cheese

The first time he had taken a bite of the cheesy goodness, it was at Henry's insistence.

The few occasions he had frequented Granny's establishment before that had been after Neverland, when the townspeople had continued to give him strange looks out of the corners of their eyes and he hadn't wanted to muck about with ordering items that sounded nothing like the food of his home realm. Steak was a safe choice, as were ham or chicken sandwiches. A  _grilled cheese_ had sounded strange and he wondered what the point was of merely warming up some cheese.

But one of the days he had been watching the lad, when the town was too busy fretting over Zelena to give him any more mistrusting looks, they had spent most of the afternoon gambling over  _french fries_  (another invention of this world, and one he was most glad to discover) and Henry ordered a pair of  _grilled cheese sandwiches_  from Ruby.

When Killian bit into the melted cheese-and-toast concoction, he was transported back to the cheese biscuits his mother used to prepare for their breakfast, the way the bread would crumble in his chubby clutch and the cheese that would drip from his fingers and quickly harden on their worn kitchen table.

Henry had smiled at him, mouth full of food, and smugly said, "I told you that Granny makes the best grilled cheese."

The love for the sandwiches must be hereditary, because Killian often finds Swan ordering the same thing, making this soft moan in the back of her throat when she takes her first bite (the kind of moan that makes a man want to do things to encourage more such noises) and smiles the same smile as her son.

When her parents leave the sheriff station, he stands to escort her home and on their way out the door he chances a look at her trash can.He can clearly see an uneaten grilled cheese lying on top of a brown paper bag.

"Why don't we stop at Granny's on the way home, love?" he asks, helping her into her coat. "Perhaps we can finally get you that grilled cheese."

Her eyes dart to the bin and then back to him and she smiles, shaky but sure. "That sounds like heaven," she says. And when he takes his first bite of cheesy goodness, as she steals one of his french fries (despite her full plate of onion rings), he is inclined to agree. It is heaven indeed.


	14. Baseball

Male bonding is quite different in this world, so far as Killian can gather.

In his land, if a man wanted to court a woman he would have his parents approach her parents and make a formal request. He would dine at her home, take her for walks in the village, and, typically, sneak her out at night to perform in less-than-approved activities.

In his own youth he hadn't had time for such things. And in his pirating days he was more often seen with a whore or a married woman than a lass in the bloom of first love. However, as far as he can tell, in this realm things go quite differently, including becoming acquainted with a woman’s parents.

After their journey through time Killian spends many days in the loft where Emma resides with her parents, son, and brother. The prince and princess are caring for the new royal and Killian has had the child deposited into his arms more often than he ever dreamed, considering his dubious past and the dangerous weapon that replaces his left hand.

The small lad abhors silence which, taking his lineage into account, is hardly surprising, and so the  _television_ remains turned on during many of these afternoons, giving him glimpses of the wider world, both in reality and fantasy. Dave will often join him and the baby on the couch, explaining any questions Killian might have and controlling the  _remote_  and thus the dramas being played out.

Lately, the prince has chosen to watch something called  _baseball_.

He explains the rules of the game to Killian, comparing it to a similar game in the Enchanted Forest. Although Killian was never one for such athletics at home, Dave’s enthusiasm is infectious and soon the two are screaming at the television, groaning and cheering, predicting and making bets. (Most of those deal with who will have to clean up after the baby’s next mess.)

“Watch out, male bonding going on,” Emma snarks when she enters the loft one evening, her mother and son trailing behind her with bags full of groceries. “You guys think you can look away from the game long enough to help us put these away?”

“As you wish,” Killian says, rising to his feet immediately. The tiny prince is still nestled in the crook of his arm, small chest rising and falling, and he can see Emma’s bright green eyes soften when she takes in the sight of him with a baby.

“You know what, don’t worry,” Snow chimes in, looking back-and-forth at Emma’s dumbstruck expression and his own rising blush. “Just hold on to Neal until he wakes up.” Her amused smile widens and her eyes lock on Dave. “As for you, Prince Charming, you’re not excused. Come help us with the bags.”

“Yeah yeah,” he mutters, slowly walking away from the riveting game, controller still in his hand. “I’m coming.”

“Don’t worry, Dave,” Killian reassures him, clapping him on the shoulder. “I shall let you know if you miss anything of note.”

He gives Killian a smile and nods. “Thanks, man.”

The bonding rituals may be different, but Killian can tell that the sentiments therein are exactly the same.


	15. CD

Emma takes a strange sort of pleasure in figuring out the things he prefers in this world.

It starts in the frozen foods section of the local grocer, when she picks up five bags of different kinds of potatoes and declares that they have to cook them all and find his favorite. (He likes curly and, somehow, they arrive on Granny’s menu the next week.) Then comes genres of movies, from musicals to dramas to horror to romantic comedy. (He finds he enjoys the dexterity of the dancers in the musicals, but the high adventure of the action stories.) And then, of course, is the intriguing week when Emma models a frankly staggering number of flimsy undergarments in a variety of colors, textiles, and shapes. (He would no sooner choose a favorite sound she makes as he removes them from her body.)

But it is music that she finds to be a complete conundrum.

“You really don’t like this?” she asks one afternoon, when he has joined her on patrol at the edge of town. The music box in the vehicle is playing one of her  _classic rock_  CDs at an ungodly volume and he cannot keep the wince from pinching his face. (It is dreadful.)

As Henry prepares for school in the mornings, some days Killian will hear him playing modern music from his  _boom box_. The lad calls it  _pop music_  and Killian finds it even more atrocious than his mother’s preference.

“Maybe you’ll like this,” Dave chuckles one evening as they travel back to the loft after a night of drinking at the Rabbit Hole, slightly uncoordinated fingers fumbling on his truck’s music box. This music is softer, filled with guitars and a strangely accented voice. “They call it  _country.”_  The prince gives him a wide smile and sings along. (Killian isn’t sure if the royal has a terrible voice to begin with or the several tumblers of rum have affected his ability.) (Either way, it is awful.)

“You have to like  _some_  music of this world,” Snow whispers as she turns on music in the kitchen, the young prince having just been laid down for a midday rest. Her preference is something she calls  _jazz_ , and though the voices are much more soothing to his ears, it is still nothing like the music he heard growing up, the tavern songs or the trumpet fanfares of naval parades.

It is only after he helps return Ursula’s voice, finally righting a wrong from so long ago, that Emma smiles at him from behind the counter at Granny’s, inserting one of her  _CDs_  into the music box. “I think I found it,” she grins as she comes around and slips into his arms. “I found the music that you like.”

It is beautiful. It is perfect.

“Its opera,” she whispers in his ear as they slowly revolve on the empty floor, the lights dim and the streetlights reflecting off of her soft curls. “You like opera music, you old man.”

(Years later, on a very special day, he requests that they play this  _opera_  music when she takes her last steps as an unmarried woman. He suggests they use something from his extensive  _CD_  collection.)

(Ursula is there instead, singing with that heavenly voice on the happiest day of his life.)

( _CDs_  are overrated.)


	16. Slumber Party

Something is tickling Killian’s nose and he draws back from whatever is pressed against him, pulling a face and grunting before a familiar scent hits him.  _Emma._

It is Emma’s soft blonde hair and her gentle breathing against his neck and her hand heavy on his thigh.

He immediately relaxes his body, hoping his movement has not woken her from a surprisingly restful slumber. But, alas, it is the brief loss of contact that has her stirring and finally opening those wide green eyes, dulled from sleep. She gives him a wide, innocent smile and whispers, “Well, hello there.”

Killian yawns and tucks her closer, not sure he wants this peaceful spell to break-

_Wait. Spell._

“Shit!” Emma exclaims, realizing at the same time as he. “While we’ve been having a slumber party the town got hit by a spell!” In tandem, they jump to their feet and make their way out of the loft to track down the crocodile and the witches.

It isn’t until hours later, when the sun has set and Emma is curled up in his arms on his bunk, tears wiped from her cheeks and preparing for another slumber that he has the privilege of holding her, that he gets an opportunity to ask her about today’s unfamiliar phrase.

“Swan, what is a  _slumber party_?”

Her chuckle is warm against the hollow of his throat and he relaxes a bit to feel her amusement (her tears break his heart, drop by drop). “A slumber party is when kids have other kids over to their house all night long. They play games and hang out and they all fall asleep in one room when they crash after too much sugar.”

“Did you frequent many of these  _slumber parties_  as a young lass?” His hand finds the ends of her hair and he plays with it absentmindedly, knowing she enjoys the soothing motions.

“Nah,” she sighs, the melancholy returning to her voice. “Orphans weren’t usually invited to the slumber parties. People probably thought tragedy was catching.”

Killian tugs her a bit closer, wishing he hadn’t said anything, wishing that he could wipe away her awful past as easily as he could wipe the tears from her face. “If I had been there,” he whispers, blowing on her hair so it moves and tickles his nose, “I would have invited you to my slumber party.”

She chuckles again and burrows her head deeper into his chest. “Not sure what my foster families would have thought of co-ed slumber parties, but for a hunk like you I would have snuck out of the house.”

(Although  _hunk_  is another strange word, Killian can parse it out from the way her fingers momentarily squeeze his arse.)


	17. Booty Call

_I need you. Meet me at the docks in 15._

Killian stares at the ten words shining on his screen with Emma’s face smiling at him next to it. With the lovely Swan, these words are more likely ominous than a show of desire, though he would be pleased to find out that her  _need_  is amorous.

The sheriff’s vessel arrives not a moment later, tires squealing, and Henry waves at him from the back seat. He slides into the car and, with one look at Emma’s grim expression, steels his resolve for a long night of aiding the heroes in whatever this evening’s quest pertains.

 _I need you. Meet me at the docks in 15._  

Several weeks later, when the storms have passed and peace returns to Storybrooke like a clear day with a strong headwind, he receives the same message and a feeling of foreboding passes over him.

This time, he waits for her with a beating heart and damp palms. There has not been enough time for them to recover from the last mess. Why won’t the gods give them some rest? But her yellow car stops and she exits with a look in her eyes that he’s only learning means his body will be sore in the morning.

“Is that ship fit for sailing, pirate?” she whispers before nibbling his ear, her hand sliding up the bare skin of his back. “Because I’m anticipating a lot of  _rockin’_.”

A few hours later he spots his calling phone out of the corner of his eye and shares his concerns when he received her text.

“Ah.” She brushes kisses against his neck and he shivers in delight. “That, Killian, was called a  _booty call_. It means-” she takes his hand and helps him firmly cup her bottom. “I want your  _booty.”_

Killian growls and flips her onto her back, smirking down at her wide grin. “I am usually quite possessive of my booty, madam, but I suppose I could make an exception.”


	18. Cough Drops

She cries herself hoarse that night.

When she wakes up the next morning, eyes red and puffy, face as white as a fresh sail, he runs a thumb over her cheek and whispers, “Good morning, love.”

She cannot answer him.

With a soft kiss to her forehead and another blanket laid over her shaking body, even though he knows she is shivering from shock, not cold, he departs to the  _pharmacy_  in search of the  _cough drops_  he had looked at the last time he and Emma stepped inside the establishment. Without a furious Emma by his side, the purchase takes little time, and he quickly returns to the Jolly with a sack of medicine, chocolate, and a container of Granny’s onion rings.

She is staring at the ceiling, unblinking, and he wishes desperately for the anger she has demonstrated time and time again. Blood hell, it is enough to make a man want to provoke her just to be sure she has not faded away from self-loathing.

He knows that feeling quite well.

So he does what he can. He sits her up, makes her eat the food he brought, as well as drink several cups of water to make up for the tears that poured from her the night before. And, before he allows her to fall asleep again, tucked under his arm with her hand on his heart, he unwraps a  _cough drop_ , the paper crackling beneath his fingers, and places it on her tongue.

“Take this, love. You need your voice to make those ridiculous pirate jokes you are so fond of.”

And slowly, so slowly he thinks he may be imagining it, the corners of her mouth turn up and her fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt.

“My pirate jokes are great,” she whispers softly.

They drift back to sleep but Killian can feel a weight lift off of his chest. It is a feeling that he recognizes well since being in Emma’s company.

It is  _hope_.


	19. Minnesota

There is a particular shirt that Emma likes to wear when she is feeling most vulnerable - when her eyes are more open and her touch is softer, when her laughs come easier and the smiles even more so. It is a shirt she wears when she presses behind him to dip the tip of a pinkie into the spaghetti sauce, brushing the back of his neck with a kiss before popping the digit into her mouth with a giggle. It is a shirt she slips over her head when she crawls out of bed in the middle of the night to use the washroom, returning to press her cold feet against his and sigh at his warmth. And she wears this shirt the week that she is ill and unable to leave her abode, cheeks and nose a vivid red and a pile of crumpled tissues at her feet.

It is his favorite shirt simply because he is aware that it is her favorite.

“What does this say, love?” he asks the first time he sees it on her, a lazy afternoon spent in bed, this worn purple shirt the first stitch of clothing she has worn in almost a day. “ _Mine-a-so-ta.”_

 _“Men-a-soda,”_ she corrects with a chuckle, replaced by a moan as he runs his fingers across the raised word on her chest and presses his advantage by cupping one of her soft breasts. “I lived with a few families out there.”

“In the lovely land of  _Minnesota_?” He is kissing her neck now and he can feel how her face is stretched into a wide smile. “Sounds like a lovely, exotic kingdom.”

Emma snorts. “Mostly just cold. Not too different from here, just has more Midwestern hospitality.”

“Hospitality?” He nudges her legs open and lines up against where she is still warm and inviting. “So you were raised to be-” his hips rock forward slowly but firmly, “-hospitable?”

That shirt of hers ends up on the floor again and Killian is very sure that he wants to know more and more about this very  _hospitable_  land of  _Minnesota_.


	20. Knocked Up

“I thought I lived in a fairy tale, but now I’m starting to think I live in a soap opera.”

Killian hasn’t the faintest idea what Swan’s adventures in the outside world have to do with hygiene or opera music, but her voice has that weariness with an edge of frustration that he is learning means she needs a channel for her anger. “What is the matter, love?” he asks into his talking phone, speaking softly despite his instincts to yell into the strange device. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She pauses and sighs and he can just imagine how her teeth are working her lower lip, making the soft pink flesh a rosy red. “I- I had the chance for vengeance and I didn't take it. I was a real hero.”

“Of course you were!” There is more on Emma’s mind, and if she were with him he knows he would be running his hand along her back or pulling her against his chest. But as she cannot see him, he indulges in a wide grin of pride that Emma did not succumb to darkness.

“Yeah, so, we’ve got Lily and we’re bringing her back. But we had to drive through New York and pick up Robin and get him away from Zelena.” Her voice tightens and Killian senses this is the crux of her discomfort. “Except we got here too late. Robin knocked Zelena up.”

“Gods, he hit his own wife? Perhaps Regina is better off-”

“No no no!” She lets out that little chuckle that means he has misinterpreted a phrase from her world. “No,  _knocked up_  means getting someone pregnant. Zelena’s gonna have a baby. Regina and Robin went to go get a drink and I’m stuck here watching Zelena and Lily.”

“Zelena is with child.”

“Yeah.” He can imagine her lip is being tortured again. “And now Robin’s pretty broken up about it.”

Killian takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as the images come rushing back. Running his fingers across a still-flat stomach. Purchasing a tiny wooden ship made for a babe. Dreaming up names. Watching the mother of his child die in his arms.

He clears his throat and hopes he sounds normal. “A man of honor does what he can for both his child and its mother. No matter the cost. I am sure Robin will find a way to make things right.”


	21. Trapper Keeper

In the heat of the moment, Killian pays little mind to the books and writing utensils that spill from Henry’s backpack, the way they roll across the counter and onto the floor, creating what is sure to be a hazard for clumsy feet. There is only one book that matters, one item that he pays attention to, its thickness familiar beneath his fingers from all the times he hefted it in the Enchanted Forest of the past.

But when he returns back to the loft, after a flash of light and agonizing darkness, one of the books is under his head, like a pillow on the hard wooden floor. It is a  _trapper keeper_ , so said Mary Margaret several weeks prior as she put it in that very same backpack and escorted Henry out the door and back to school.

“Getting the school started again was a perfect final act as Mayor,” the petite princess had sighed, ruffling Henry’s hair and giving Killian an amused look when the lad snorted in annoyance. “I’ll be glad to get back to teaching.”

At Emma’s appearance, Henry ducked into the bathroom for a final wash up before classes began and Killian accepted a kiss from the boy’s mother, her blonde hair brushing against his shoulder and her lips soft on his cheek. “Good morning, Killian,” she smiled. “What brings you here so early?”

“Your mother told me she had a gift for me?” Killian replied, his sentence ending on an upswing as he gave Snow a curious eyebrow.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot!” The princess pulled a book-shaped item onto the higher portion of the counter. “That’s for you.”

“Uh.” Killian quickly covered his confusion with a dazzling smile. “Thank you, m’lady.”

“Its a  _trapper keeper_ ,” Snow replied with a gentle smile, fully aware of his lack of understanding. “I saw it on sale at the pharmacy and I thought you could use it to keep your research in. Belle says you’re a fan of hard copies.”

Killian nodded and he felt his ears grow hot in the warmth of maternal kindness. “You are very thoughtful, highness.”

The weight of Emma’s chin descended on Killian’s shoulder and then her tickling giggle, something he had heard many times in the last month, rang out in his ear. “Mom, you got him a  _Pirates of the Caribbean_  trapper keeper? That is too perfect!”


	22. Ohana

“I have a confession to make.”

All is well in Storybrooke again, but there is still something weighing on Killian’s heart, the word _hero_  still strange on his tongue and Emma’s soft hand in his outside of Granny’s still undeserved.

“Most men do,” she mutters back, a sparkle in her eye that says the phrase means something special to her, but he uncharacteristically brushes it aside and forges on.

“In that world that the crocodile fabricated, I was not only a coward, but I was very, very alone. No family, no friends, no loved ones. And when Henry appeared, it made me feel as though I could truly be a part of something.” His lips twist a bit, remembering. “Not unlike how you made me feel once.”

“So what’s the confession?” Her thumb is running a comforting little circle in his palm and he hates how there is a crease in her brow.

“When he told me I had been his sailing teaching in another reality, I felt a hope that there was a possibility for my usefulness, for a real connection with others. And then I met you-” his grip tightens in hers as he recalls the beat of his heart, a unsteady tattoo, as he held her in his arms for seemingly the first time. “-and that feeling increased.”

“What’s wrong with that, Killian?” she asks. “Gold took all that away from you in the story, of course you’d want it.”

“Well, when you confided that we were close in this other world, I started to wonder if-” Killian takes a breath and lets loose the ridiculous thought that had been on his mind as her body was close to his, one hand on his waist and the other around his wrist. “-I started to wonder if you were my wife and Henry was our son.”

“Oh.” Her green eyes go a little wide and she blinks twice before her pupils return to their normal size. “I can see how you could have thought that.”

“My confession, Swan,” he sighs, ducking his head and swallowing, “is that when I sacrificed myself for you and Henry, I thought I was doing so as your husband and the boy’s father. I believed that I had made vows that I would hold fast to. So if you found it surprising at all that I told you and Henry to run-”

“No.” Emma’s palm is warm upon his cheek and her fingers firm as she urges him to look her in the eye again. “I wasn’t surprised. I know you would have done the same in this world too.”

“Emma-”

“You’re part of our family, Killian,” she pushes on, not letting him break in. “Even if you haven’t made any legal vows.  _Ohana._ It means family. And family means no one gets left behind.”

She kisses him then, loving and fierce, and he returns it with all the gratefulness in his heart, little knowing that it will be their last one before everything changes.

And years later, when he finally watches the children’s film where she surely gleaned her word _Ohana_  from, he understands why Emma would resonate with a plucky orphan who loves a strange, cruel creature. That is who Emma is, no matter what forces of darkness try to change her. She’s a beacon of light.

And she does not let anyone be left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end of this series. see y’all next season


End file.
